Summer rainstorms.
Rainstorms any time.
A good book.
A bed strewn with pillows.
A caramel latte.
Black coffee with dessert.
Dark hair.
Green eyes.
Red nail polish.
Wrinkled faces.
Starlight.
3am.
Sunrise. When you haven't slept yet.
A good game of air hockey.
Bon Jovi.
David Cook.
Tattoos.
Travelling by boat.
Attending weddings.
Pictures of Greece.
Great love songs. Like Seabreeze.
Chicken marsala.
Tiramisu.
Tree houses.
A swing in the yard.
Decorating desserts.
Cooking soup.
The children in Haiti.
The Sea of Galillee.
The springs of Ein Gedi.
Saying good morning.
Being called love. And kid. And little one.
Photography that captures perfection in the mundane.
An afternoon at my Nonna's house.
That moment in the Atlanta snow.
Quotes scribbled anywhere.
Handwriting.
Invitations in calligraphy.
Wet ink pens.
Pencil drawings.
Having my secrets discovered.
Letters in the mail.
Firm handshakes, warm hugs, soft kisses.
Fresh kiwi.
Men's cologne.
Summer dresses.
Feeling delighted in.
Christmas time.
Stillettos.
White candles.
The word valor.
Little boys in pillowcase capes.
Little girls in dress up wings.
Real handkerchiefs.
Walking with an umbrella.
Pink hydrangea with cream roses.
Black cherries.
British accents.
Accents in general.
Rooms full of windows.
Walking through gardens.
Being alone with Him in beautiful places.
A kiss on the hand.
Playing Mario Brothers on Super Nintendo.
Beaches at night.
Autumn weather.
Winter coats.
Casablanca, the movie.
Suits, ties and cufflinks.
Pocket watches.
Writing in beautiful places.
Laughing until my ribs ache.
Singing in the car.
Wind in my hair.
Breakfast at night.
Dinner with friends.
Drive-in movies.
Arcades.
Wrinkled hands.
Grand pianos.
Electric guitars.
Anything by C.S. Lewis.
People playing with my hair.
Driving with the windows down.
Antique telephones.
Impressionist paintings.
Getting dressed up. Ballgowns any day.
4 wheelers. Mud tracks.
A ride on a jet ski.
Thai food. And sushi.
The mixed CD he made me.
Going for a hike.
White Christmas lights. Strung up any time.
Banyan trees.
Slow dancing when there is no music.
Dipping my hand into a running stream.
Waves on the ocean.
Driving over bridges.
Stretching.
Riding horses.
Going out barefoot.
Vacationing on an island.
Lying in a hammock.
The smell of the ocean.
A nap in the sun.
Walking into a cold store on a hot day.
Getting drenched in the rain.
Being spontaneous.
The words subtle and seldom.
Praying with teenagers.
Tear-soaked shoulders.
Speaking to leaders.
Dreaming when I'm awake.
You. And not just for reading this lengthy list. <3
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
Dealing with disappointment...
Have you ever been deeply frustrated by your own failures? By the fact that, no matter how you try, you just can't seem to get it right?
Perhaps the better question would be, is there anyone out there who hasn't experienced this frustration? If so, please contact me: I'd love to know your secret!
The truth is that we're all too familiar with our own inadequacies. We have an amazing experience that builds in us great expectations. We decide that this time things are going to be different, that we're going to get our act together, be disciplined, have control...
We have so many lofty expectations of ourselves and then all at once, with one stupid choice or one utterly ugly moment, all of our lofty perceptions of ourselves come crashing to the floor. And as we're sweeping up the pieces again, through the tears of frustration that sting our eyes, we're reminded of how many times we've been here before... and begin to dread how many times we'll be here again.
What is the hope with so many broken promises? What is the hope with so many failed attempts?
I'm wrestling with that thought myself today and wondering how God can be so patient with me despite so many shortcomings.
I turn to the Scriptures for relief and find that nagging sense that I've been neglecting my reading of them as a source of additional frustration. But God's mercy breaks upon me as I recall that I am not the only one to have miserably failed:
"We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do - this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.
So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God - through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God's law, but in the sinful nature a slave to the law of sin."
Romans 7:14-25
Wow. 'For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do - this I keep on doing.' I don't know that I've ever felt so understood as I do in hearing one of the great men of church history speaking so plainly the frustration I've always felt. Have I not also cried out on many occasions "what a wretched man I am!"?
But fortunately, Paul points us to the right conclusion. Not of another wave of energy and effort. Not in more misguided hopes in our own righteousness. Pure, humility-inducing rescue. That is the only cure for this sin-sickness that plagues mankind. "Who will rescue me from this body of death?" He will. He has. He still does. He has not forsaken me, nor grown weary of my constant need for redemption.
And once again, I find myself humbled: sinking, drowning and ever in need of a Savior.
But His mercy is new every morning and He knew I would always be in need of Him.
And again to that banner He has purchased for me with His own blood:
"I do not set aside the grace of God, for if righteousness could be gained through the law, Christ died for nothing!" -Galatians 2:21
His death was not in vain. He did not die to save that which was already secure. God does not indulge an elaborate show in the death of His only begotten.
No, He died because we could not otherwise have lived. He rescued us because we were in need of rescue. And we remain in need today. And whatever made us think that He is intimidated by our persistent need? Who told us that we could continue to be Christians without Christ?
Drink deeply of the grace of God that beckons you today.
All frustrations and failures aside, call upon the Lord who died to save even those who should know better. His love for you has not faded and is the only thing stronger than the sin that has been your cruel and constant companion. Run to redemption even now and live.
Perhaps the better question would be, is there anyone out there who hasn't experienced this frustration? If so, please contact me: I'd love to know your secret!
The truth is that we're all too familiar with our own inadequacies. We have an amazing experience that builds in us great expectations. We decide that this time things are going to be different, that we're going to get our act together, be disciplined, have control...
We have so many lofty expectations of ourselves and then all at once, with one stupid choice or one utterly ugly moment, all of our lofty perceptions of ourselves come crashing to the floor. And as we're sweeping up the pieces again, through the tears of frustration that sting our eyes, we're reminded of how many times we've been here before... and begin to dread how many times we'll be here again.
What is the hope with so many broken promises? What is the hope with so many failed attempts?
I'm wrestling with that thought myself today and wondering how God can be so patient with me despite so many shortcomings.
I turn to the Scriptures for relief and find that nagging sense that I've been neglecting my reading of them as a source of additional frustration. But God's mercy breaks upon me as I recall that I am not the only one to have miserably failed:
"We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do - this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.
So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God - through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God's law, but in the sinful nature a slave to the law of sin."
Romans 7:14-25
Wow. 'For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do - this I keep on doing.' I don't know that I've ever felt so understood as I do in hearing one of the great men of church history speaking so plainly the frustration I've always felt. Have I not also cried out on many occasions "what a wretched man I am!"?
But fortunately, Paul points us to the right conclusion. Not of another wave of energy and effort. Not in more misguided hopes in our own righteousness. Pure, humility-inducing rescue. That is the only cure for this sin-sickness that plagues mankind. "Who will rescue me from this body of death?" He will. He has. He still does. He has not forsaken me, nor grown weary of my constant need for redemption.
And once again, I find myself humbled: sinking, drowning and ever in need of a Savior.
But His mercy is new every morning and He knew I would always be in need of Him.
And again to that banner He has purchased for me with His own blood:
"I do not set aside the grace of God, for if righteousness could be gained through the law, Christ died for nothing!" -Galatians 2:21
His death was not in vain. He did not die to save that which was already secure. God does not indulge an elaborate show in the death of His only begotten.
No, He died because we could not otherwise have lived. He rescued us because we were in need of rescue. And we remain in need today. And whatever made us think that He is intimidated by our persistent need? Who told us that we could continue to be Christians without Christ?
Drink deeply of the grace of God that beckons you today.
All frustrations and failures aside, call upon the Lord who died to save even those who should know better. His love for you has not faded and is the only thing stronger than the sin that has been your cruel and constant companion. Run to redemption even now and live.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Silly confession #25...
I have decided to live deeply. I have decided to live breathing. I have decided to live in a state of perpetual enough-ness.
I believe this is the Lord's will for the life of man.
I've decided to enjoy the sky. I've decided to run the earth. I've decided to dive into cool water. I've decided to scale the mountains. I've decided to stand in the rain. I've decided to drink deeply this adventure.
Whether I journey alone or among many, I've decided to just live the moment and release the rest.
I wish to be marked by gratitude, by valor, by hope, by childlike love.
I wish to live deeply and love freely.
I wish to be a missionary ever.
I hope to always have a song in my heart and the courage to sing it regardless of who hears.
My confession is that I am still in so many ways just a child. A child who inquires with unconcealed delight, "you know my name?!?"
A child who wants to be seen. A girl longing to be loved. A daughter who wants to sing sweet songs and be heard with delight. A dreamer who wants to do something great in this world.
What better way is there to live than with open hands and open heart?
So open me today, Lord. Let me be vulnerable. Let me be foolishly faith-filled. Let me love and be loved fearlessly. Let me touch the world without regard for the wounds proximity can bring.
I want dirt on my hands and tears on my shoulders. I want to touch a dying and bleeding world in hopes of bringing just a bit of healing.
I want to shine with what small light I have in hopes of dispelling at least some darkness. I cannot do much, but what I can do, I will do.
Living deeply. Is that not the great adventure?
Life abundant. Is that not a very different thing than we often make it?
"Let me know that You hear me. Let me know Your touch. Let me know that You love me. Let that be enough."
I believe this is the Lord's will for the life of man.
I've decided to enjoy the sky. I've decided to run the earth. I've decided to dive into cool water. I've decided to scale the mountains. I've decided to stand in the rain. I've decided to drink deeply this adventure.
Whether I journey alone or among many, I've decided to just live the moment and release the rest.
I wish to be marked by gratitude, by valor, by hope, by childlike love.
I wish to live deeply and love freely.
I wish to be a missionary ever.
I hope to always have a song in my heart and the courage to sing it regardless of who hears.
My confession is that I am still in so many ways just a child. A child who inquires with unconcealed delight, "you know my name?!?"
A child who wants to be seen. A girl longing to be loved. A daughter who wants to sing sweet songs and be heard with delight. A dreamer who wants to do something great in this world.
What better way is there to live than with open hands and open heart?
So open me today, Lord. Let me be vulnerable. Let me be foolishly faith-filled. Let me love and be loved fearlessly. Let me touch the world without regard for the wounds proximity can bring.
I want dirt on my hands and tears on my shoulders. I want to touch a dying and bleeding world in hopes of bringing just a bit of healing.
I want to shine with what small light I have in hopes of dispelling at least some darkness. I cannot do much, but what I can do, I will do.
Living deeply. Is that not the great adventure?
Life abundant. Is that not a very different thing than we often make it?
"Let me know that You hear me. Let me know Your touch. Let me know that You love me. Let that be enough."
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Life to pour...
And the echoes of worship are ringing in my soul,
Resounding and lifting;
Condensing upon the walls of my heart,
Dripping down like precious oil
And all I want is more.
So why do I not chase more?
Standing alongside the Great Deep, dying of thirst;
A daughter of the Spring, drinking never.
I hear You, Lord.
Afar off in the distance.
And dare I dream it: nearing.
I hear You.
And I long for You. My heart misses You.
I long to lay upon Your chest,
To be wrapped in Your embrace,
And to bring some joy to Your heart.
But I fear my light has grown dark,
My heart has grown cold
And I wonder if You will find me in this wilderness.
Will You come to me, Lord,
When my stubborn heart will not draw near to You?
Will You come to me, beloved Spring,
When I have perished at Your side
In my foolishness, undrinking?
Revive me, Lord.
Revive me, Lord, again.
That I may pour my life as oil.
As oil upon Your feet.
Resounding and lifting;
Condensing upon the walls of my heart,
Dripping down like precious oil
And all I want is more.
So why do I not chase more?
Standing alongside the Great Deep, dying of thirst;
A daughter of the Spring, drinking never.
I hear You, Lord.
Afar off in the distance.
And dare I dream it: nearing.
I hear You.
And I long for You. My heart misses You.
I long to lay upon Your chest,
To be wrapped in Your embrace,
And to bring some joy to Your heart.
But I fear my light has grown dark,
My heart has grown cold
And I wonder if You will find me in this wilderness.
Will You come to me, Lord,
When my stubborn heart will not draw near to You?
Will You come to me, beloved Spring,
When I have perished at Your side
In my foolishness, undrinking?
Revive me, Lord.
Revive me, Lord, again.
That I may pour my life as oil.
As oil upon Your feet.
Friday, June 19, 2009
So many questions...
A busy day and no time for writing really, but sad news has me wondering. And wondering wants writing.
One of our emcees passed away today.
A few short weeks ago, she found out she had terminal cancer. She's in her early forties. She loves Jesus and she lived a beautiful life.
And so we're thinking. And it just seems wrong.
Life is fragile.
A brief flicker of all the burning brilliance of human life flashes upon the canvas of time. And just that quickly is gone.
I'm 22. And it hasn't been that long. Even four times this lifespan seems too brief. How about just two?
And pages keep turning. And the sand in the hour glass pours down. And we're all being chased by the hands of time. And for a moment my heart is saddened. Forty seems far too early to have been caught. And so, so suddenly.
Life is a vapor.
But there is that lovely hope, so sure. When we are caught, we are caught not by emptiness or by life faded to black. We are caught by eternity, where we have always belonged. We are caught by the arms of the Father Who loves us so dearly. I cannot conceive of forever, but Amy is resting there this morning. And one day we will go to meet her.
What trembling is there for the Lord's beloved? Much pain for those who linger on in the world of sand and pages. And a longing for the light we knew in the one we love.
But for that light, only the melting into that eternal radiance, the very presence of God with unveiled face and unhindered soul.
"Love may be the end of us; but why, why should we fear?"
Love Himself is our eternal end. The wind of time blows on. And we can be moved by it, unafraid.
One of our emcees passed away today.
A few short weeks ago, she found out she had terminal cancer. She's in her early forties. She loves Jesus and she lived a beautiful life.
And so we're thinking. And it just seems wrong.
Life is fragile.
A brief flicker of all the burning brilliance of human life flashes upon the canvas of time. And just that quickly is gone.
I'm 22. And it hasn't been that long. Even four times this lifespan seems too brief. How about just two?
And pages keep turning. And the sand in the hour glass pours down. And we're all being chased by the hands of time. And for a moment my heart is saddened. Forty seems far too early to have been caught. And so, so suddenly.
Life is a vapor.
But there is that lovely hope, so sure. When we are caught, we are caught not by emptiness or by life faded to black. We are caught by eternity, where we have always belonged. We are caught by the arms of the Father Who loves us so dearly. I cannot conceive of forever, but Amy is resting there this morning. And one day we will go to meet her.
What trembling is there for the Lord's beloved? Much pain for those who linger on in the world of sand and pages. And a longing for the light we knew in the one we love.
But for that light, only the melting into that eternal radiance, the very presence of God with unveiled face and unhindered soul.
"Love may be the end of us; but why, why should we fear?"
Love Himself is our eternal end. The wind of time blows on. And we can be moved by it, unafraid.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Random thoughts from Philly...
Let me preface this by saying that 1am musings are entirely unreliable and I refuse to be held accountable for anything I say here. But I had to spill a bit before crawling into bed and rapidly awakening to all of the adventure tomorrow.
I'm finally listening to that song from Nina's recital that I've been wanting desperately. It's lovely and perfect writing music which encouraged this absurd endeavor. "Weightless" by Courtney Jones - look it up; it's amazing.
What shall we say of Philly? It's old and urban; it's got a lot of personality and character and I love watching the people here. At night, it's just like New York - especially in downtown. Trendy little shops with beautiful architecture lining the street with illuminated signs. And then there's the crisp cool winds. I adore.
It's busy. Running, running, running. And a different job every moment. And lots of new people to enjoy. I adore. Zig Ziglar. I adore. :)
There have been things less lovely, but they're not worth mentioning here.
Four hours to sleep and I must be about that. But I have enjoyed my adventure thus far and it is only halfway through. So much more to come. And hopefully I'll remember to take pictures tomorrow. But for now, just sleep, dear sleep.
I miss you, my loves. I hope to see you tonight.
"With all the wondering, I'm weightless here in my dreams... mmmmm...."
(Seriously, look it up.)
I'm finally listening to that song from Nina's recital that I've been wanting desperately. It's lovely and perfect writing music which encouraged this absurd endeavor. "Weightless" by Courtney Jones - look it up; it's amazing.
What shall we say of Philly? It's old and urban; it's got a lot of personality and character and I love watching the people here. At night, it's just like New York - especially in downtown. Trendy little shops with beautiful architecture lining the street with illuminated signs. And then there's the crisp cool winds. I adore.
It's busy. Running, running, running. And a different job every moment. And lots of new people to enjoy. I adore. Zig Ziglar. I adore. :)
There have been things less lovely, but they're not worth mentioning here.
Four hours to sleep and I must be about that. But I have enjoyed my adventure thus far and it is only halfway through. So much more to come. And hopefully I'll remember to take pictures tomorrow. But for now, just sleep, dear sleep.
I miss you, my loves. I hope to see you tonight.
"With all the wondering, I'm weightless here in my dreams... mmmmm...."
(Seriously, look it up.)
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Silly confession #24...
I absolutely love quotes.
There is something about them, some irresistible charm. They are language distilled into its greatest potency, expressing in a single concise statement a truth that books could be (and likely have been) written about.
Whether humorous, insightful or simply poignant, I delight to read them.
And I delight to copy them - always by hand - onto little scraps of paper and scatter them about any object that frequently meets my gaze (and that will hold still! I think I would permanently affix certain quotes to some of the people in my life if they'd let me...).
At the moment I am immensely annoyed by the fact that my computer at work has been completely covered and I have no more room for new quotes (unless I array them in straight lines, which is utterly unacceptable. Quotes must be scattered, not placed in an orderly fashion. It's true! A scrap of paper on which I have scribbled a favorite quote wants to be taped to something at a haphazard angle. I don't pretend to know why that is their desire, but one must give a quote what it wants...)
I have frequently toyed with the idea of hanging strings all down an empty area on one of my walls with quotes pinned from top to bottom - a subtle stage for the well-spoken wisdom of the ages to speak. Floating? Dangling? In any case, I love the idea of quotes somehow suspended in my room, unframed by a particular context, just as they are in my thoughts. Perhaps one of these days I will actually attempt this project.
And how I would delight to speak in quotes! To have my every statement be brief, memorable and worthy of immortalizing with that badge of honor: a hyphen followed by my name! Evidence of that lovely fulfillment of purpose - having once said something worth hearing.
All hope is lost, though, when I realize that this would entail people actually knowing how to spell my last name. God certainly does have an interesting sense of humor. Oh well, I suppose there's always marriage. Is there a Mr. Smith out there in need of a wife?
Well, my love to you, darlings. May you all find yourselves inspired to say something quote-worthy today!
There is something about them, some irresistible charm. They are language distilled into its greatest potency, expressing in a single concise statement a truth that books could be (and likely have been) written about.
Whether humorous, insightful or simply poignant, I delight to read them.
And I delight to copy them - always by hand - onto little scraps of paper and scatter them about any object that frequently meets my gaze (and that will hold still! I think I would permanently affix certain quotes to some of the people in my life if they'd let me...).
At the moment I am immensely annoyed by the fact that my computer at work has been completely covered and I have no more room for new quotes (unless I array them in straight lines, which is utterly unacceptable. Quotes must be scattered, not placed in an orderly fashion. It's true! A scrap of paper on which I have scribbled a favorite quote wants to be taped to something at a haphazard angle. I don't pretend to know why that is their desire, but one must give a quote what it wants...)
I have frequently toyed with the idea of hanging strings all down an empty area on one of my walls with quotes pinned from top to bottom - a subtle stage for the well-spoken wisdom of the ages to speak. Floating? Dangling? In any case, I love the idea of quotes somehow suspended in my room, unframed by a particular context, just as they are in my thoughts. Perhaps one of these days I will actually attempt this project.
And how I would delight to speak in quotes! To have my every statement be brief, memorable and worthy of immortalizing with that badge of honor: a hyphen followed by my name! Evidence of that lovely fulfillment of purpose - having once said something worth hearing.
All hope is lost, though, when I realize that this would entail people actually knowing how to spell my last name. God certainly does have an interesting sense of humor. Oh well, I suppose there's always marriage. Is there a Mr. Smith out there in need of a wife?
Well, my love to you, darlings. May you all find yourselves inspired to say something quote-worthy today!
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